


Don’t Have to Read My Mind (You Oughta Know)

by Mytay



Series: Adjust Orbit and Velocity [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Because Lance is Dense as a Brick In This, But He Gets Better, Except More Like Suddenly Realizing You've Been In Love All Along, Falling In Love, Fluff, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 04:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytay/pseuds/Mytay
Summary: “Yeah? I’ll take repressed over dense,” Keith shot back, one eyebrow raised. “How long did it take for you to even realize you liked me?”“Only a tiny bit longer than it took for you to confess,” Lance retorted with great annoyance. “As soon as my brain clicked ontoKeith is cool and I want to kiss his face,I told you withintwenty seconds,instead of brooding about it forever.”Keith rolled his eyes. “Come talk to me when you’ve had to deal with your stupid face for months while crushing on it, and wanting to kiss it, but not being able to because it was too thick to know it wanted the same thing.”— Objects in Motion, Chapter 6There’s a space ball on Day 245 of Voltron, and Lance is killing it out there … But for whatever reason, he can’t leave Keith all alone to sulk his way through the night. Somehow this ends with dancing, a duel, and a confession that completely blows Lance’s mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the lyrics to [_Hot Blooded_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXo28e30SKc), by Foreigner.
> 
> The delightful **mayuluh** suggested a random one-shot from Lance’s POV in this ‘verse, and the equally lovely **noyacchis** requested the ball/duel/realization of feelings from our Blue Paladin’s sweetly dense perspective. So here it is, and hopefully it meets your expectations! Many thanks to anyone who reads, and special thanks to **mayuluh** and **noyacchis** for their ideas :)

******

 

_Planet: Celthrius_

_Date: 245 Days of Voltron_

_Celthrian Welcoming Celebration (a.k.a. The Space Ball)_

 

 

Lance felt like a _freaking prince_ right now. He was on cloud nine, no, _higher,_ because _outer space, man._ He was dressed the best he’d ever been, and he cut a damn fine figure in this suit. Every time he flashed a smile to a pretty alien lady (and a couple of pretty alien dudes, because space had taught him that the Blue Paladin of Voltron was open to _anyone_ ), he got an answering smile, a wink, even a couple of whistles — cloud nine and beyond.

 

So the fact that he couldn’t quite let go of something in the back of his mind — _someone_ — irked him because, _seriously,_ best time of his life happening right this second. The gorgeous alien in his arms (who may have been female or male, Lance couldn’t tell) giggled and gasped as Lance spun them out and then pulled them back in, a move he had perfected with Keith over the course of several dance practises.

 

Keith … Keith had suffered through the opening dance of the ball, and then refused to join Lance for another. Which was fine, Lance wasn’t hurt — Keith wasn’t much for public displays like that; dude was reserved, and it was _all good._ But Lance had wanted to dance with Keith more than he realized because, as attractive as his current partner was, this wasn’t anywhere near as fun as doing a rumba with the blushing Red Paladin.

 

“Blue Paladin, sir, I don’t suppose you would indulge me for your next dance?” came a nervous voice.

 

Lance glanced over to see a Celthrian woman standing off the side, and her face broke into a smile when Lance nodded, grinning. “You got it, milady!”

 

The song ended, and Lance bowed to his now former dancing mate, winking when they laughed and pinked becomingly. They graciously made way for his next partner, and Lance bowed again, introducing himself, “The name is Lance. You’re welcome to use it as much as you want — and you are?”

 

“Ethuli,” she replied, taking his hands, gasping a little when Lance rearranged them so they stood much closer. He started dancing slowly, making sure she could follow along. When she kept up with ease, he quickened the pace.

 

“Ethuli, you’ve got yourself a gorgeous name to match your face, lemme tell you.”

 

She broke out in laughter. “Oh, but you are terrible! I do hope your Red Paladin isn’t within earshot.”

 

Lance sighed, but didn’t comment on that — he had grown used to the universe at large thinking that he and Keith were _a thing._ It used to be a big deal to him, but now it was just _whatever._ Keith was pretty awesome, so there were worse things that could be going around, rumour-wise.

 

Speaking of that mullet, where was he at now? Probably brooding in a corner … Lance glanced over and caught sight of waving hands belonging to Hunk. His best friend winked at him, and then gestured over to a table behind him.

 

 _Ah._ Keith _had_ hidden himself in a corner — but apparently he was not alone.

 

Lance could not miss out on this. Keith probably needed a wingman, and badly, considering the confused look on his face.

 

“I’m so sorry to cut our dance short, Ethuli, but I think my Red Paladin needs a helping hand. But I’ll reserve another dance later for you,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her fingers.

 

She pulled her hand away, blushing again and shaking her head. “No, no, that’s fine. You save your dances for your lifemate, and thank you for indulging me!” Ethuli bowed quickly and moved off the dance floor, glancing back at him a few times.

 

He grinned to himself — _hell yeah, I so got this rugged-charming-defender-of-the-universe-thing down!_ — and headed over to Keith. He groaned a little when he overheard a conversation about hands and fingers that didn’t even have _innuendo_ laced into it.

 

But the Gyrotian girl, Mey-Foran, apparently had some serious flirting game, and that had Lance smiling broadly as he approached.

 

“It’s fascinating, the differences between us. That must be part of why I find you so attractive.”

 

Keith stared at her, his jaw dropping, and Lance could not handle this level of incompetence. He had to lend his expert flirting assistance to his fellow Paladin. He dropped into a seat next to Keith, putting an arm around the back of his chair in a supportive _here, buddy, lemme help you out_ gesture.

 

“Keith, my man, look at you scoring with one of the prettiest ladies at his ball!” Lance winked at Mey-Foran. She gave him a laugh, and then the sly minx shifted a hand onto the table, sliding in close to Keith’s. Lance caught that, and maybe he should have left it, let Mey-Foran try and get through to Keith on her own, but he knew how _dense_ the Red Paladin could be.

 

“Lance, you’re a walking embarrassment!” Keith glared. “We were just talking —”

 

 _As if._ Lance was a little annoyed at Keith’s obliviousness. How could he not see that this girl was into him? All the signs were _there_. Lance pressed in a little closer, trying to communicate this without actually spilling the beans in front of Mey-Foran.

 

“Sure you were, Mr. Quite Attractively Handsome — according to this fine lady here.” Lance pushed over Keith to speak directly to the girl. Keith let out a huff of air, no doubt pissed at Lance, but really, this was for his own good. “Listen, he’s all withdrawn and stuff, but I promise he’s a really cool dude. And even when he’s being a jerk, he usually doesn’t mean it.”

 

“You seem to know him quite well.” Mey-Foran appeared quite serious all of a sudden.

 

“We’re Paladins of Voltron, battle-buddies and all that,” Lance said proudly. Keith was exuding a crazy amount of heat, which didn’t make any sense, since Lance had been the one working up a sweat out on the dance floor.

 

“If I were to attempt to woo him away, what do you think my chances would be?” Mey-Foran played innocent, but Lance saw her further close the gap between her and Keith.

 

That should have been his cue to pull away, but Keith could not be trusted, right? So Lance took a moment to consider his response. He looked towards Keith; he’d forgotten that they were close — close enough for Lance to feel his breath on his face. For Lance to catch the hints of dark indigo in his eyes. Eyes that were narrowing in irritation.

 

Lance snapped out of his funk and gave Mey-Foran an apologetic look.

 

“Probably not as good as they should be, considering how awesome you seem to be. Also, we have a full-time saving-the-universe gig going on.”

 

“I see.” She sighed heavily with disappointment.

 

Lance desperately wanted to tell Keith that he was _in_ , since he didn’t even seem to know it — or maybe didn’t even want it?

 

He had an idea as to why that might be, but until it was confirmed, Lance wanted Keith to at least _consider_ a chance at happiness here.

 

He put some distance between himself and Mey-Foran, keeping his arm around the back of Keith’s chair in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “You know what, man, you only live once, so you gotta grab every potential for a good time that you can! Why don’t you grab Mey-Foran — uh, politely and with her full consent — and take her out onto the dance floor? You’ve got some moves!” Lance grinned at the lovely Gyrotian. “I taught him everything he knows.”

 

Mey-Foran just sighed. “You know what? I think I’ll pass. But you go on and have a good time.  _Both_  of you.”

 

As she got up and left, some of the tension drained out of Keith’s frame. This maybe confirmed something Lance had long been suspecting … That Keith was just plain not into girls, which was totally fine and a non-issue. What Lance worried about was that Keith might have some hang-ups related to his bonding problems; namely, the fact that he hadn’t any long-lasting friendships until Voltron. Considering his awkwardness around people in general, that probably meant he hadn’t had any romantic relationships either.

 

Or maybe he wasn’t into that, period?

 

Lance just wanted to _help,_ but Keith was _so damn_ _hard to figure out._

 

“You doing okay, buddy?” he asked, withdrawing fully back into his seat.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just … I appreciate what you’re trying to do Lance, but it’s … not for me, okay? So don’t pull that again.” It was said with his usual bluntness, but there was an undercurrent of sadness that hit Lance right in the chest.

 

But he had no idea what to do with it, so he decided the time had come to regroup and really _think._ He stood up, patting Keith on the shoulder. “All right, you got it, dude. Try to have _some_ kind of fun at this ball, whatever your kind of fun is.”

 

As he walked off, his brain buzzed with half-formed notions of how he could talk to Keith about whatever had him extra broody … But Pidge, evidently, needed him for something else, appearing out of nowhere and snatching his arm in a tight grip. She yanked him over to the other side of the ballroom wicked fast.

 

“Ow! Hey, Pidge, what’s your deal?”

 

“My deal is that you’re —”

 

Lance prepared to mentally check out of a lecture about whatever he’d done that was totally cool, but not cool enough for Pidge’s standards, when his ears picked up …

 

“ … that Red Paladin hardly speaks, it is _disconcerting._ Not to mention, _suspicious._ ”

 

Lance held up a hand to Pidge’s face, casting his gaze around to find the source of this conversation. That kind of crap could not be allowed to stand unchallenged.

 

He scanned the groups and couples standing nearest to them, and then his eyes lit upon a noble-looking pair of Gyrotians, speaking with someone from Mir.

 

“ — and while it’s true that they are all great warriors, the hot-headed nature of the Red Paladin concerns me greatly.”

 

“Not to mention the lack of respect he holds for his lifemate. That is obviously very telling of his character,” said one of the Gyrotian nobles, his face conveying his disgust, and Lance was already one hundred percent _done_ with these people. “He doesn’t even _speak_ about —”

 

“Excuse me,” Lance cut in cheerily, smiling in a threatening manner (he was trying to imitate one of Keith’s favourite expressions, often directed towards him). “I have to interrupt, just so there’s no confusion — Keith is an amazing fighter. He’s probably the best warrior, after Shiro. And that hot-headedness has saved our lives more than once. Just saying.”

 

Lance could see Pidge nodding out of the corner of his eye, looking distinctly unhappy. He wondered if he could convince her to unleash some kind of computer virus on these a-holes.

 

“You’re young, and you may have taken a lifemate at too early an age, but your suspiciously silent Red —” That dismissive tone was just _it_ for Lance, _nope, no, red card, jackass._

 

“Keith is an awesome lifemate,” Lance interrupted brutally, his glare intensifying. “This might be a cultural thing, so pardon me if I’m messing up here, but on Earth, people who don’t speak their minds every five seconds are  _valued and respected_ just as much as jerks like me. We need people who actually take the time to  _think_ before they speak.”

 

He stared back and forth between the two Gyrotian pricks. The guy from Mir looked distinctly uncomfortable. Lance was prepared to go off on a lecture that would have made his _mamá_ proud, but the pair of douchenozzles were spared by the arrival of the Yellow Paladin.

 

“Hey, uh, guys, everything going okay here?” Hunk asked. Keith stood next to him, and Lance really, really hoped that the Red Paladin hadn’t overheard any of this bullshit.

 

Before Lance could explain, the Gyrotians actually apologized, giving Keith a formal bow and disappearing into the crowds. _Good freaking riddance,_ Lance thought with supreme satisfaction.

 

“That looked a little intense, dude. You okay?” Hunk leaned into Lance a bit, squeezing his shoulder.

 

Lance was staring off into the multitude, making sure the jackasses were far, far away. It took him a moment to register Hunk’s question. “Yeah? Yeah. Just some people being jerkfaces, it happens all over the universe, apparently.” Lance shrugged, feeling better overall, happy to switch back to party mode. “Let’s go say hello to Imperator Fr’ellin!”

 

Hunk gave him a quizzical look, still appearing concerned, and Keith was … pretty blank-faced. Lance had no idea if the Red Paladin had heard any of what just happened, but he was cool with pretending nothing was going on.

 

Then two Celthrians appeared out of the masses, blocking their path with their tall and muscular bodies. Also, their freakishly long swords. Lance wanted to make a joke about that, but the way conversations around them abruptly hushed had him thinking … maybe not. Innuendo for another time, then.

 

“Paladins, I greet you. Commander Sheirene, at your service,” the woman said with extreme formality. She even topped it off with a salute. “This is my comrade, Captain Wolrhen.”

 

The captain bowed, saluting them when he straightened up. Lance bowed in return because that seemed like the right thing to do. He had to hold back a friendly wave — this didn’t feel like quite so friendly a time.

 

“While we are quite honoured to be a part of this alliance, I’m afraid I’ll need to ask something of you, which may feel out of place,” the Commander spoke, looking directly at Lance.

 

Yeah, this was starting to feel distinctly _unfriendly._

 

“What is it? Do we need to get the Princess, or Shiro —” Hunk started to ask.

 

“No, nothing like that. It involves you, Paladin Lance,” Commander Sheirene interrupted, her eyes still on him (had she even _blinked?_ Was Lance supposed to be meeting her gaze, or like, dropping his eyes in deference or something? _What was actually happening right now?)_. “Before I was a Commander in our armed forces, I was a priestess in the Great Temple of Julthra.”

 

“Oh no.” Pidge sounded _worried._ That clearly meant something _bad._

 

 “What? What’s happening, Pidge?” Lance asked, trying to keep the anxiety from seeping into his tone.

 

“As you are now considered an honorary Celthrian, I must challenge you to answer for the blasphemy you committed on your last visit to our world.” The Commander seemed a little … unhappy about that. This did not ease Lance’s concerns in the slightest. “You may fight with the melee weapon of your choice. And you may choose a second. Captain Wolrhen is mine.”

 

“ _What?”_ Lance said in a rasp, his eyes widening hugely.

 

“Uh, what?!” Hunk exclaimed, drawing even more attention to their little confrontation.

 

“Commander, surely there’s —” Pidge tried to defend Lance, tried to help, and Lance was grateful, but he was already making up his mind to deal with this on his own. It had been his big mouth that had gotten them into this mess, and he would get them …

 

But Keith took three big steps, standing ramrod straight in front of the Blue Paladin, and Lance couldn’t see his face, but he knew, based on the stubborn set of his shoulders, that Keith had his fierce battle mask on.

 

“You are not duelling him. Nobody deserves to die for one stupid comment.”

 

“It wouldn’t be to the death, that’s barbaric! It would simply be until second blood, as we say. Many in our religious forces felt there wasn’t enough answering for the slight. If he fought, it would go a long way in appeasing them, and in solidifying our alliance.”

 

Lance hunched in on himself. “Right. Okay. Keith, it’s fine, this was my screw-up, and I —”

 

“ _No._ ” Keith shot him a quick but vicious glare. “You aren’t a screw-up. It was a dumb mistake any one of us could have made. And a melee fight isn’t fair.”

 

 _Wait, what? Keith, what are you even doing?_ No way was Lance letting Keith take a shot for him — Keith got enough glory on the battlefield as it was, and Lance didn’t want to feed the Red Paladin’s ego. That was the _only_ reason Lance was objecting … Well, and the fact that this was his fight to take care of, clearly.

 

“If you wanted to face him down on a rifle range, it would be a different story. Lance is one of the best sharpshooters around,” Keith said without hesitation, totally sincere … Lance stared at Keith, his mouth open. _Holy. Crap._ “But to face him in something he isn’t an expert in — what honour is there in that?”

 

“It’s the traditional way to pay respect to our god, Red Paladin. What would you suggest that works within those bounds?”

 

Lance would suggest some kind of pillow fight. Or maybe a swim-off? Nobody could beat Lance in the water, _no one._ While he was contemplating these alternatives, the rest of the Voltron family showed up, plus Lady Hycinthia. Lance did not appreciate how very worried Shiro and Coran looked.

 

Keith didn’t look back at Lance as he spoke next, “I suggest that  _I_ take Lance’s place. I mean, I’d have the right to, as his lifemate … right?”

 

Lance didn’t squeak in shock, but it was a near thing. Lucky that his mouth seemed to have dried up, that his throat was no longer functioning properly. He couldn’t even look at the others right now, too busy trying to get his brain back in gear because there was _no way_ Keith had just said that; Lance needed to fire up the memory part of his head first, so he could rewind the last few seconds and confirm that his ears were malfunctioning.

 

Shiro decided to side with Keith, and thereby confirm that no, Lance’s hearing wasn’t broken. “If you accept Keith as your challenger, then could we resolve this quickly and relatively painlessly?”

 

“Yes,” Commander Sheirene agreed, looking way too serene and pleased with herself. She kept glancing between Lance and Keith, and that’s when all the cells in Lance’s mind decided to get back to their jobs.

 

“Then I’m going to be Keith’s second,” he announced, giving Keith his own version of the _I’m ready to kick ass and do not get in my way while I do it_ stare.

 

Keith did _not_ seem happy about that, but Lance, quite frankly, _did not give a crap, nope, just deal with it, you stubborn jackass._

 

“Then shall we proceed outside?” the Commander suggested.

 

Keith already had his bayard in hand. “Let’s.”

 

Pidge and Hunk were speaking quietly to one another, and Lance would normally drop back to eavesdrop, to contribute his own incredibly valuable two cents, but right now, he was too busy trying to not freak out. Everybody in the ballroom seemed like they wanted in on this — they all moved as one out onto this outdoor patio/backyard thing. Even the balcony above filled up with spectators.

 

In the middle of a large, square patch of grass stood the Red Paladin and the Celthrian Commander. Lance stepped a little closer to the Red Paladin, trying to find a way to tell Keith  _please, buddy, let me take over, this isn’t your fight._ But then Lady Hycinthia was suddenly right there, between them, and she spoke to the assembly at large.

 

“This was not a scheduled part of the evening, so allow me to explain to all our non-Celthrian guests. Our honoured Blue Paladin, upon his first visit to our world, made a cultural blunder that was highly … offensive, albeit completely unintentional. We have most of us chosen to forgive his unknowing blasphemy, and he has since apologized and learned from his mistake.”

 

Lance hung his head, trying not to let his guilt show, but he failed — he could feel Keith’s annoyed stare, and when he glanced up to meet it, he found those dark eyes too intense to ignore. He had gotten pretty good at reading them, too — that glare meant _you’re being stupid, stop being stupid._ Lance knew it was intended to encourage him.

 

So he straightened up, shifted his expression into one of calm acceptance, and tried not to fidget nervously.

 

“However, our religious authorities need more reassurance that the mistake will never be repeated, and the Red and Blue Paladins have agreed to abide by our laws. We are gratified for this, and we beg your patience. Once the matter is settled, the festivities may reconvene.”

 

Lance stepped back, watching Keith and Commander Sheirene evaluate each other … Lance’s hand reached for his bayard reflexively when the Commander rested her hand on the hilt of her blade.

 

“Whenever you are ready … begin.” Lady Hycinthia moved to stand next to Allura.

 

He held his breath as Keith released his sword. He knew Keith wouldn’t charge immediately; he’d seen Keith learn the art of _patience._ The Red Paladin’s bluntness, his stubborn rush into battle was pretty awesome in its own right … but not always the best fit for every situation. After months of training with Keith, Lance had watched him take Shiro’s lessons about _patience yielding focus_ to heart.

 

Commander Sheirene’s sword was _huge._ When she finally attacked, Lance flinched as that massive blade made to cleave Keith right in the shoulder … But Keith knocked it aside, twirling around the blow to hit the Celthrian’s arm — blood appeared, and Lance held back a sigh of relief.

 

Pidge shouted, “Yes!”

 

“You show her, Keith!” Hunk joined in.

 

All the spectators, previously silent, started cheering like crazy. Lance felt even more tension leave him as Keith grinned, and he kept right on being patient, being _focused._ Lance was weirdly proud.

“Looks like he’s finally learned something from our sparring matches,” Shiro said to them, smiling.

 

Lance trained with Keith almost as much as Shiro did, so he had seen this progress. Keith was more willing to be an impatient asshole with Lance — probably because the Blue Paladin was damn good at provoking him — but the point was that Lance knew how freaking hard Keith had worked to temper his, well, _temper_.

 

Commander Sheirene gave Keith a vicious smile. And then it all kicked off, the fight shifting gears way, _way too fast._

This definitely reminded Lance of watching Shiro and Keith spar; it wasn’t about killing or maiming, it was about _winning._ Winning with minimal bloodshed, quickly and efficiently. Keith and the Commander looked like they were evenly matched — it was _extreme._

 

“You are a skilled swordsman, Paladin.” Commander Sheirene pulled back on a blow as Keith ducked under it, and he gave her a quick smile.

 

“Same to you.” Keith went low again, his leg lashing out, trying to catch her knees. She managed to avoid it, her own sword coming down, but Keith was there, ready — except not ready enough. He kept the blade from hitting him dead on, but it glanced off his forehead, a splash of blood emerging on his temple.

 

 _No, no, not —_ Lance didn’t even realize he had moved until Allura was yanking him back.

  

“Even! Next blow goes to the victor!” Commander Sheirene announced to everyone. A round of enthusiastic applause met her words. Lance’s hands formed fists at his sides, one of his feet tapping out an uneven rhythm.

 

Keith made an animalistic noise, surging upwards, trying to push her off balance, blade again blade. Sheirene was way taller than him, and Lance figured this was _it_ … But then Keith twirled to one side, Sheirene falling into the space he no longer occupied. She swung back to meet him, but Keith was already there; their swords clashed twice before Keith landed a blow, and a line of blood formed along Commander Sheirene’s coat covered arm.

 

Screams, applause, and the end of the duel.

 

Lance should have felt relief; he did feel a small measure of it, but mostly he had buzzing in his brain, in his ears, and he found himself staring at Keith, frustrated though he couldn’t say exactly _why._

 

The Commander was smiling and offering a hand to Keith. “That was well-fought.”

 

Keith gave her a firm handshake in return, a knowing smile on his face. “Thank you. And thanks for holding back. Normally that would tick me off, but I get that you didn’t really want to do this.”

 

 _That was Sheirene “holding back”? Holy crow._ Lance _still_ did not feel good about this duel. What in the hell was wrong with him? Actually, no, wait, redirect: _What the hell was wrong with Keith?_

 

“I did not restrain myself as much as you would think, young Paladin. That you would notice is another point to your character. You do yourself and your lifemate proud.”

 

 _That. Is. It._ Lance shoved himself in-between the two warriors, trying to keep his frustration at bay, grinning as cheerfully as he could. The expression probably looked as forced as it felt, but he _so did not care._

 

“Right!” Lance chirped. “This is over then? Great, awesome. Back to the dancing!”

 

Except Lance wasn’t ready to go back to tearing up the dance floor. He watched Keith, and the Red Paladin stared right back, tilting his head in question. Lance glared a little harder. Keith’s eyes narrowed in return.

 

They both stayed put as the crowds started slowly heading back inside. The masses moved a little more quickly once Lady Hycinthia announced, “Thank you for your indulgence — let us continue on with our celebrations! Please, everyone, back to the ballroom!”

 

Lance didn’t move, not an inch. He could hear Pidge and Hunk muttering to each other again, the last to leave. Once Lance no longer saw them in his peripheral vision, he stepped in closer to Keith.

 

The Red Paladin took a step back, his expression wary. “What’s going on, Lance?”

 

“ _That_ is exactly what _I would like to know._ ” He might have sounded a tad irritated … Right, maybe _a lot_ irritated. A whole bunch of little things and big things from the last few months were crowding in his head, jostling for space, trying to get his attention. It was a cacophony of noise, and Lance was sure he was missing something huge.

 

Keith had the answer, Lance just _knew it._

“You need to be specific, I have no idea what you’re even talking about right now.” Keith stood there, fresh from a duel to defend Lance’s honour as his lifemate, and he was _daring_ to act like this was _totally normal._

Lance sucked in a deep breath, attempting to _focus._ His brain-space was a mess right now; he had to ignore the hell out of his own thoughts in order to find his words.

 

“You’re all about the mystery, I get that, but there’s been something really freaking strange happening with you, and I know that _you know_ that I’ve noticed, but there’s been _zero explanation._ And I was cool with this, _I was,_ ” Lance insisted, waving his hands around to get across just _how cool, the coolest, that’s him._ “But then … Keith, look, dude, you’re one of my buddies now. I’m willing to overlook a lot of crap because I know being friends with me means putting up with even more crap —”

 

“No, stop.” Keith’s tone dropped three or four octaves, and _wow,_ somehow that scrambled Lance’s head even further. “Lance, you’re … you’re not someone I ‘put up with,’ not even close. I … like hanging out with you.”

 

“And _that_ is what’s getting to me,” Lance said, a hand coming up to rake through his hair — so much for that perfect 'do he’d had going on. “If I’m not pissing you off then _what the hell is with the mood swings?_ And, and with this _everybody thinks we’re a power couple_ bull that keeps happening … You’ve been way too chill with this whole thing. You … haven’t actually been mad. You’ve been weirdly _accepting_.”

 

“I’ve been annoyed, you’ve seen it.” Keith shook his head, denying Lance’s accusation.

 

Yes, Keith had moments of _not okay,_ but that mostly tied back to that strange period wherein Keith had been pissed at him without explanation — once they’d made up, he became significantly, noticeably … not as bothered by it. Until recently, Lance had still been aggravated each time, though he couldn’t say what, exactly, ticked him off about the assumption that he and Keith were together. It wasn’t as though he hated Keith anymore …

 

“Okay. Yeah. But … Keith, you …”

 

“You didn’t deny it.” Keith’s eyes zeroed in on Lance and didn’t waver. Lance could feel the weight of that stare. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “When that guy was bashing me for —”

 

 _Well, that sucked_. “Crap, you heard that?” Suddenly, Lance wanted to go back and find those jerks, give them even more of a stern talking-to. “Keith, he was being stupid, and you shouldn’t —”

 

“I’ve heard worse from others. The point is that you … didn’t deny it. You used it, you defended me with it.” Those greyish-purple eyes just _kept on staring_ , and Lance found his frustration yet again surging up.

 

“ _Yeah?_ And you just used it to fight a duel for me. You fought a  _duel for me._ What the hell were you thinking?”

 

“That I could help you out, you stubborn jerk,” Keith retorted, his expression pinched and unhappy. “What else did you think this was?”

 

“You wanting to show off, of course!” Even as he said it, Lance didn’t believe it. That was old-school Lance and Keith neck-and-neck rivalry. It didn’t bear any relevance with present day Lance and Keith. Especially not with the way Keith had stuttered around the word _lifemate,_ not with how unshakable he’d been about defending Lance, about keeping him from … getting hurt … “I couldn’t — you weren’t — oh.”

 

 _Holy. Freaking. Shit_.

 

Lance was in the middle of some kind of temporal paradox, or whatever scientific term meant _way too much information processed in an impossibly short amount of time._

Keith had been so passionate in his defense of Lance, so sure of his right to do so.

 

He’d held Lance close during their dance lessons, laughed and blushed, quietly confessed to having fun even while he’d been so shy about actually dancing — hell, he’d _volunteered_ for more practise before the ball.

 

He’d had no interest in Mey-Foran, and so Lance had suspected that he was probably strictly into boys, if he was into anybody at all … Lance had never seen Keith so much as give a _long look_ to anyone else, except …

 

He’d been uncomfortable, confrontational and grouchy when Lance had been flirting with Fre-Lised and others back on Gyroq.

 

Again, Lance ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were watering. He’d been staring without blinking for a while. Because who could remember to blink when he was having the _mind-blowing epiphany_ that one of his fellow Paladins might be … Might have …

 

Keith’s tightly irritated expression faded, softened into something jittery, nervous. He was shifting his weight back and forth, reaching up to wipe the blood from the cut on his temple.

 

Lance jerked into action before his brain had fully processed the decision to do something. His body apparently wasn’t in the midst of the same freak out. He had a handkerchief in hand and extended out towards Keith. “H-h-here.”

 

He could see Keith’s throat flex as he swallowed, his hand gripping onto the fabric, their fingers brushing against each other. Skin had never felt this … charged. Lance had received static shocks less jarring than this. When Keith yanked his hand away, Lance could still pinpoint the precise spots where they’d been touching, like Keith had left fingerprints of sensation behind.

 

Keith was holding the handkerchief to his head now, pushing down without making a sound, until he said, “I … I said you were a great rifleman. If this had been a shooting contest, I would’ve let you do it.”

 

Lance took his turn swallowing — pointless, his mouth was too dry. He had to force his next words out. “While I resent the whole ‘letting me’ thing, I … I’m letting that go because I need to ask you something.”

 

Keith blinked at him, and those were some seriously long eyelashes — they stood out a little more than normal, since Keith’s skin looked really pale in the moonlight.

 

“Yeah? Uh, okay.” Keith shoved the stained handkerchief into a pocket, his hands dropping down to his sides, fingers curling into fists. Shaking, a little.

 

There wasn’t a crowd in Lance’s mind now … It had thinned out to a handful of clear memories, shuffled and rearranged in ways that changed their meaning. “A few months ago, you got really weird around me. You turned back into a jerk. I was a jerk back to you, for which I apologized, and you said sorry too, but … You never told me why.”

 

“Lance, it was —” Keith started to say, but no, that wasn’t it, that wasn’t _it._

 

“Don’t say it was nothing, or it has nothing to do with  _me._ Because I’m pretty sure both of those are lies.”

 

“What does it matter? Things are good now, right?” Lance heard the crack in Keith’s voice. A shift in his head, another memory of Keith, looking away from Lance, sweaty after training. _“We’re Paladins, and we’re friends, Lance. It’s just ... weird. For me. Not just with you, but with everyone ... I haven’t done the friend thing for this long before._ ”

 

That was true, but it was not the whole truth.

 

“Yeah, yeah, they are. But it’s bugging me … If it’s something I did, I need to know what it was, so I don’t ever do it again. Right?”

 

Lance maybe had it wrong, maybe he was jumping to conclusions — how could it be _this_? How could Lance _not have noticed_? He was good with people; Lance had mad interpersonal skills, when he wasn’t wrapped in his own head, when he wasn’t caught up in … things. Like a rivalry he’d basically made up because Keith hadn’t even _known who Lance was_. Right. _Okay. I can be dumb. I admit it, I can be dumb,_ Lance thought to himself, somewhat hysterical in his own mind.

 

“You … you didn’t do anything. Not really. It was all me.” Keith laughed, but it sounded agonizing. “I was … going through something. But I got it under control now. So you don’t have to worry.”

 

 _Damn it, Keith, just freaking say it!_ “That’s not —”

 

“You don’t have to worry because I’ve figured out that I’m sort of in love with you, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it. So let’s just move on, okay?”

 

_Holy. Swiss. Fucking. Cheese._

Lance had figured _crush._ He’d guessed _attraction._ He’d maybe even dared to believe _wants to date me a little._

 

_Love._

Once again, his brain kicked into overdrive, hundreds of little moments passing through it as if it were a sieve, and what was left was one fairly large and damning pile of evidence that pointed towards Lance being not only dumb, but a _big damn moron._

He’d been training with Keith nearly every day for _months._ He’d been reluctant to talk to Hunk about _why,_ mostly because he had no decent explanation _._ Even when things were at their worst between Lance and Keith, Lance never once skipped out on training. Hunk hadn’t bothered to keep asking, and Lance had been happy that the subject was dropped … Because _holy fucking shit,_ Lance had been _happy to be with Keith._ There had been times when he’d wanted to aim his rifle somewhere really tender on the Red Paladin, but it had been unthinkable to miss out on spending time with his then-rival-now-friend.

 

Keith made him laugh, and Lance rarely laughed harder than when the Red Paladin surprised him with a burst of humour. Lance felt like a king when _he_ made _Keith_ crack up. Lance loved to get the last word in on an argument with him. And he relished it when Keith shot off a snarky one-liner that Lance couldn’t top because it meant he had a challenge waiting for him _next time._

 

Keith had beautiful eyes, framed by ridiculous eyelashes, and Keith … Keith loved him, and Lance …

 

Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Except, _no,_ this was not going to go away, so he did have to say something.

 

Keith withdrew, his gaze falling to the ground. Lance could feel the air around them snap with tension — Keith would break, would run, like he had _so many times, which now made sense._

And Lance did not want that at all. Lance actually wanted the opposite of that.

 

“That works, actually.” His voice was _wrecked._ He cleared his throat, which helped. Slightly. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve got the worst crush on you.”

 

Keith actually flinched, his mouth parting, no words coming out. Then, “You … you do?” He sounded so surprised. It kind of hurt to hear.

 

“I can’t say that I’m in love with you,” Lance admitted quietly. “Because I just figured out I had crush on you like, ten seconds ago?” _It was a crazy long ten seconds, felt like a year._ “But if you’re willing to give me time to catch up …”

 

“I did it in our training sessions,” Keith said, his voice steadying. “You’re a fast learner.”

 

“Probably still won’t ever be as good as you.” _Gah, that sucked_. He made a face. “Ugh. I guess having a crush on you doesn’t make me any less annoyed at your stupid innate talent. Pfft.”

 

“That’s good, it’ll keep you motivated. I’m not going to go easy on you, even if we are …” Keith trailed off, his hand did a _so-so_ motion, though what it meant, Lance had no idea.

 

He reached over, snagging that hand out of the air, holding it gently. Keith’s sword callouses scraped against Lance’s gun ones — a nice fit. He stared at the contrast in their skin tones as he said, “I believe the word you’re looking for is  _boyfriends._ ” _Pero carajo,_ did that just fall out of his mouth? Lance and Keith, _boyfriends._ Who the hell would have thought? Not Lance, not until literally _one minute ago._

 

Keith’s fingers twitched a little, like he wasn’t sure how holding hands worked. “Right. Yeah. We should probably talk about what  _that_  means. I don’t have … any experience with it. Like, zero. I’ve barely even watched any movies that —”

 

“Dude, I got you covered. On the movie front. Actual experience? Zip.” Lance gave Keith a cheesy grin. “That’s cool though. You and me? Great improvisers.”

 

“Yeah.” The tension was leaving the Red Paladin, his stance relaxing, his fingers finally curling around Lance’s.

 

And then they were both grinning like idiots at each other. Lance had seen Keith smile, laugh, smirk, all different expressions of joy, but this one … this one was new. Lance felt his skin heat up as he took it in, his own smile widening in response.

 

He pulled on Keith’s hand, trying to draw him in closer. “So. Um, do we, like, hug now? Are we hugging-type boyfriends?”

 

Keith’s face took on a pensive, confused look. “I don’t know. I don’t particularly feel like hugging you right now.”

 

“Yeah, doesn’t feel right. What about dancing?" Lance flashed back to their dance practises, to the way he’d guided Keith’s hips, and that was completely different in retrospect, and stupid past-Lance didn’t _appreciate it_ enough. "I  _know_  we’re dancing-type boyfriends …” Keith had been red in the face most of the time, and … “Oh.  _Oh._ " Keith had asked for dance practise _. Keith had encouraged Lance to help him, had volunteered to be manhandled, looking pretty jumpy all the while …_  "Holy crap, you were  _dying_ during the dance lessons, and I thought you were just embarrassed but you were  _hot for me,_ oh my —”

 

“I’m going to need you to shut up now.” That was a pretty blush, even as Keith seemed to be relaxing further, unwilling to rise to the bait. He took a few steps towards the ballroom, tugging Lance along. “Seriously, no —”

 

“You were getting all  _caliente,_ oh, man, if I had known what was —” Lance would have _so_ upped his game if he’d had any idea that Keith was into him. It would have been _epic._

 

“There will be no dancing if you don’t shut your mouth  _right now_ —”

 

“Okay, all right …” Lance conceded, but the image of Keith’s face while they were pressed together, hips working overtime, kept playing in his mind. He couldn’t help the smirk. “But seriously, on a scale of one to  _habanero,_ how hot did you find me?”

 

Keith sighed like he was in profound pain. “Actually, pretty hot — until  _you opened your mouth again._ ”

 

Lance took offense, except, no, not really, because Keith was flashing him a teasing grin, and Lance needed to think about how much he had been missing out on — _Keith thought he was hot_. _Keith, Garrison’s prodigy pilot. Keith, ultimate Paladin. Keith, dork who thought Stars Wars and Star Trek were in the same universe, just different galaxies._ The veil had been yanked from his mind and now every interaction with Keith was way, _way_ more fun, way more _vivid,_ just … way. Way more. Of everything.

 

Lance almost felt like a new person as they re-entered the ballroom to the soundtrack of a soft Altean melody. Keith walked backwards towards the dance floor, still holding Lance’s hand, their arms stretched out between them.

 

“So, we gonna dance or what?”

 

Lance burst out laughing. “Wow, we gotta work on your romance game, buddy.”

 

“If you say yes, then I think my game is all right, actually,” Keith said, his smile sweet and happy.

 

How could Lance deny a Red Paladin who looked like that? He couldn’t, not even if he wanted to, so he let Keith lead him out amongst the other dancing guests. They were getting ready to sway when the song ended … and _Hot Blooded_ started rocking out.

 

“Oh _hell yes,_ ” Lance cheered. “Thank Shiro and his playlist. C’mon, Keith!”

 

Lance pulled out his best rumba steps, and after a some seconds of finding his feet, Keith matched him. They were drawing in stares, cheers, applause, and Lance had the distinct impression that a bunch of people were taking pictures, but whatever, _let them_. Let the whole universe know that Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron, had a freaking fantastic boyfriend. _Boyfriend, Keith, mine,_ his brain chanted nonsensically.

 

“Are you going to answer my question now?” Lance asked when he spun Keith into him. “About how hot you find my dancing?”

 

“Is your ego that badly in need of stroking?” Keith replied, and then his eyes immediately widened. “Lance, if you make a pun —”

 

“Oh, I wasn’t even going there,” Lance said delightedly. “Wow, Keith, I’m so _shocked_ that your mind —”

 

Keith spun him this time, sighing again before he said, “Fine, I’ll do it for you. ‘If you’re down for stroking, then I’m down for going down.’ Wink wink.”

 

Lance cracked up at Keith’s deadpan delivery, almost tripping over his own feet. Keith saved him from face-planting on the ballroom floor. And then, _and then,_ the Red Paladin actually reeled Lance in, pressing them together so tightly it was … Well, maybe this was vengeance for the dance lessons because Lance could feel his face heating up, all over, down his neck, even to his chest, and _wow_ , Keith’s smug expression was actually _attractive_ to Lance now, _this was going to ruin him._

Lance worked his hips, shameless, so Keith was blushing too, and that somehow helped Lance regain his powers of thought. He grinned wildly, and started singing/yelling, “ _Come on, baby, do you do more than dance? I’m hot blooded, I’m hot blooded!”_

 

Right, there were definitely a ton of devices being pointed their way — Lance took his eyes off Keith for just long enough to confirm this before going back to singing and embarrassing the hell out of his boyfriend. Who didn’t actually look all that embarrassed, if the laughter was anything to go by.

 

At this point, Lance noticed Pidge and Hunk on the dance floor, just as _Hot Blooded_ ended, some happy alien tune taking over. He eased up on the rumba, switched over to some of the steps Allura had taught them. Keith ducked his head, a couple of black locks falling into his face, his hair a bit messier since the duel. Lance’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

 

Actually, the entire outfit hit Lance in the face, right then and there. A reflection of his own, except red and black, instead of blue and white. Keith looked … amazing. The Red Paladin’s head lifted up, and Lance sunk into the unrestrained affection in that warm gaze.

 

The cheerful beat ended, fading into something slow, something distinctly ballad-like. Lance didn’t hesitate to swap their dancing pose — he slid his arms down, wrapping them around Keith’s waist, drawing him into his chest. He hadn’t taught Keith this kind of dancing, but it was the sort that most people could pick up easily. Lance stared at Keith from a far shorter distance, unable to keep the giddy smile off his face.

 

Keith was looking … kind of awed. Lance felt pretty awesome, but also … like maybe he didn’t deserve that level of admiration, especially coming from _Keith._

But then there was a slight bit of anxiety in Keith’s eyes, and Lance set aside his own fear to deal with that because _no, not okay._

 

“I gotta tell you something,” Lance whispered into Keith’s ear. “I think you’re unbearably cute when you blush. I’m going to be working extra hard at getting you to do that more. Just wanted to warn you.”

 

Keith shifted his head, his lips brushing against Lance’s earlobe as he murmured, “You actually almost killed me during dance practise, so if you want our relationship to last, could you ease up and let me live, you _unbearably_ annoying jackass? I don’t care how hot you are, stop trying to embarrass me out of existence.”

 

Lance broke out into highly undignified giggles, his head dropping down onto Keith’s shoulder. He felt Keith’s arms tighten around his back, his head leaning on Lance’s. This was _Keith._ His brain kept hitting upon this reality, reeling back in shock, going over the ridiculous chain of events that led to _Keith,_ and then cue the shock all over again.

 

When the song ended, switching into a beat that was a little bubblier, Lance turned his head, seeing Hunk gazing at them with a fond expression on his face. Pidge glanced over just as Lance grinned at them, one of his hands waving while still mostly pressed against Keith’s back.

 

Hunk shot him a thumbs-up, and he waggled his eyebrows. Lance blushed a bit as Pidge smiled brightly, waving at him to _continue on, as you were._ Lance hid his now pink face from them, burying it in Keith’s neck. He inhaled, feeling Keith shiver when he exhaled.

 

The rest of the night passed by with lots more dancing, and a few short breaks to replenish their energy with plenty of tasty food.

 

There were a couple of interruptions from other ball attendees. Namely, Mey-Foran, who came up to hug Lance out of nowhere and say, “You look so happy! Both of you!”

 

So he’d been an idiot big enough for total strangers to pick up on. He scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks? I thought … I thought you were into him, though?”

 

Mey-Foran grinned a touch mischievously. “He’s lovely, and it was nice to try to woo him, but I had … a good idea that it wasn’t going to work out. I’ll be saving my mating gifts for someone who isn’t so clearly in love with another. Congratulations!”

 

She drifted back into the crowd, exchanging high-fives with Pidge and Hunk for some reason. Keith reappeared next to Lance, holding out a long flute of a bubbling drink.

 

Lance took it, his eyes squinting after the Gyrotian girl. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

 

“That should be a really familiar sensation,” Keith remarked. “Isn’t that your default setting?”

 

Lance elbowed him before taking a swig from the glass. Keith waited until he’d swallowed the fruity concoction before elbowing him back, and Lance was doomed — Keith’s irritating behaviour was _endearing_.

 

He dropped his free hand around Keith’s hip, cupping it in his grip, plastering the Red Paladin to his side. “Clearly, I can learn, since, you know, _this_ is happening.”

 

Keith raised an eyebrow, ready with a snarky reply no doubt, but in that moment, another guest appeared in front of them — the Celthrian lady Lance had been dancing with earlier. His brain scrambled for her name.

 

“Pardon me, Paladins, I just wanted to … let you know that my people appreciate so very much that you submitted yourself for the duel.” She gave Lance a flustered little smile. “I’ve been so very impressed by your heroic feats, certainly, but also by the openness of your care for each other. It is … forgive me, I’m babbling —”

 

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s fine, and, uh, you’re welcome?” Lance tilted his head towards Keith. “He did all the work, though, I just stood there.”

 

“You were his second, and we are all well aware that you are a talented rifleman, Paladin Lance,” Ethuli ( _yes, that was it_ ) said kindly. “That your lifemate is a talented swordsman means you complement each other perfectly. It’s been an honour to have you here, is all I wished to say. Thank you for indulging me in that dance.” She turned to Keith now, grinning. “And thank you for sharing your partner with me. Perhaps, if there were another ball, you would be so kind as to spare a dance for me as well? I can see that you’ve no small amount of skill in that area.”

 

She winked at both of them and bowed before retreating. She was snatched up by some Deltris guests who immediately started chattering away at her.

 

“I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be getting stuff like that _a lot,_ ” Keith said, sounding a little wary. “I’m … not sure what the deal is there, but I guess there are worse things to have to put up with.”

 

Lance shrugged. “It’s part of being the Defenders of the Universe. We were bound to pick up a rep.”

 

“Yeah, but _this_ kind of reputation wasn’t …” Keith shook it off, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, doesn’t matter. Dance with me.”

 

“Dude, try a little tenderness … or not, actually, you might kill me. Never mind, stick to your rude self,” Lance said with what had to be a disgustingly sappy grin, made all the sappier by Keith’s blush, a muttered apology, and then yes, more dancing.

 

They had a _ball_ (Lance made the pun, Keith stepped on his toes deliberately — no regrets), and when the night was through, Lance was still having trouble processing everything that had happened.

 

He was going to spend his time in bed rewinding the last few months and reliving each moment with his _no-longer-blind-to-Keith’s-pining_ eyes … There was a good chance he’d be getting zero sleep. _Still_ no regrets.

 

Soft dawn lit their agreeably silent walk back to the Castle. Lance had unbuttoned more of this shirt. Keith had dared to do the same, and he’d undone the ponytail at some point, his black hair catching on the collar of his suit jacket, falling into his eyes when he tilted his head a certain way. They were both tired and dishevelled, but Lance’s comfort level with Keith had never been higher. He smiled each time their hands brushed, each time he caught Keith glancing at him from beneath his bangs.

 

Lance did the gentlemanly thing and escorted Keith right to his bedroom door. Their shared quiet had been nice, and Lance didn’t know what say, for once, so he just gave Keith a silly little smile and turned to head on to his room.

 

A firm grip on his elbow dragged him back.

 

“What —” He tried to ask. But he stopped.

 

Because Keith reached up with one hand, his other hand coming to rest on Lance’s neck, to push Lance down by the back of his head, bringing his lips to meet Keith’s, slowly, ever so gently — plenty of time to pull away.

 

Lance did not pull away.

 

He stood there, a statue, until his eyes were closing, his arms wrapping around Keith’s back in a loose embrace. Barely any pressure between the two of them, and Lance’s nose sort of ached when he tried to press a little more. He tilted his head, bumping Keith’s nose as they both worked to fix the angle … And then they had it, still soft, even as Keith risked moving his lips, a barely-there sensation on Lance’s lower lip. Lance returned the favour, and he had to actually hold back a noise, his arms tightening, when Keith pressed in with a little more intention …

 

They both reared back at the same time. Lance’s whole face felt pleasantly warm. He licked his lips, and there was no discernable taste there, but he felt a tingle on his tongue regardless.

 

He opened his mouth, trying to say something suave, something romantic. “Uh. Right. Um.” _Fail._

 

Keith was grinning at Lance’s stuttered nonsense, so he didn’t feel all that bad, especially while seeing those lovely patches of pink blooming on the Red Paladin’s cheeks. “Good night, Lance. Don’t forget we have training tomorrow after lunch.”

 

“Uh huh. Training.” With a sweaty Keith, who would be tossing Lance around, pining him to the floor, or straddling him — _nope, stop._ “I — am going to bed before I say something really stupid.”

 

Keith gave him a light, playful shove, laughing as he said, “Too late, always too late.”

 

Lance started walking to his room again; the temptation to kiss that laughing mouth was too real for Lance, and he really needed to deal with his exhaustion, since it had completely destroyed his filter.

 

Though he couldn’t help turning around quickly, calling, “Screw you, Red!” over his shoulder.

 

He was grinning way too hard. It was hurting his face.

 

When he stepped into his room, he swiftly stripped off the suit, hanging it carefully in his closet, and admiring it one last time (imagining the very similar one Keith had been wearing, blushing as he thought of Keith doing the same thing in his room right now — standing in nothing but his shorts as he got ready to sleep).

 

Lance broke his own rule about _never_ missing a night of skin care, crawling into bed straightaway, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t help the smile, and he would _never_ stop at this rate because each time he remembered Keith’s arms around him, the awe-filled stare, the way Keith’s voice broke around his confession … Lance had to hug his pillow to his chest, bend down, and muffle his excited screaming.

 

He didn’t exactly know how this had come about, where his brain had been these last however-many months, but this was _real_ — Keith was his _boyfriend._

And Lance resolved to be the best boyfriend ever in return, partially to make up for his total obliviousness to Keith’s suffering, but mostly because he actually adored that Red Paladin a stupid amount — Keith deserved no less than the most affectionate, adoring, absolutely ridiculously charming _partner_.

 

Lance was going to do his damnedest to _embarrass his boyfriend with how much he cared._

 

He grinned giddily, and eventually fell asleep still clutching his pillow, his cheeks sore from smiling, his heart happily weighed down with these freshly discovered feelings that he already cherished beyond measure.

 

******

_Lance raised himself up on his arms, gazing at Keith with such a soft expression that Pidge felt her breath catch, her heart beating a tiny bit faster._

_“There’s no one else I’d rather have beside me during a highly traumatizing safe sex lecture from my Voltron leader slash older brother figure slash pilot idol.” He leaned in further, breathing out his next words. “I want you around for any and all other potential horrors. And also for all the good stuff. And for all the sad times. Just … stick with me for all the things, please. I promise to stick by you.”_

_Keith’s face was doing something Pidge had never seen before. It was so … open, and tender, and just … content._

_“You’ve got me for as long as you want me around.” Keith’s hands snuck around Lance’s waist, his fingers interlocking at the small of his back._

 

 _—_ _Objects in Motion, Chapter 6_

_******_

**Author's Note:**

> A friendly reminder of Keith’s outfit from the ball, clearly seen in these [two](https://68.media.tumblr.com/60922ad75db536b64b17e05ac609ca4c/tumblr_ogy2s07xFL1vi2dnpo1_1280.jpg) [pictures](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1f/5a/01/1f5a019eeca0ad448f37c5f299dff74a.jpg). Lance also had on a pair of black pants, just not as tight ;) Also, his button-up shirt was white (with one button undone because, of course), and his long suit jacket was a midnight blue :)
> 
> Again, I’m not taking anymore prompts for this series since y’all have been so awesome and given me plenty! :D Thank you so much! *hugs*
> 
> Lance being oblivious was just as hard to write, if not harder, as Keith’s stubborn pining. Holy crap. Keeping him realistically dense without making him seem totally unintelligent (because I know he’s smart!) … I really hope this wasn’t an utter fail in that department.
> 
> Thank you to anybody who stops by to read, I very much appreciate it! Hope you had fun :)


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